


School bell rings, walk me home;

by kotaro_kun



Series: It's Nice to Have a Friend [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Growing Up Together, M/M, No Angst, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings, it's their love story guys, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 01:04:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21499306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotaro_kun/pseuds/kotaro_kun
Summary: "He thought he loved Eddie even more, even if that wasn’t allowed, he would settle for saying that he liked him and that he wascute cute cute,because that he could, but he would still love him."
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: It's Nice to Have a Friend [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551595
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	School bell rings, walk me home;

_“There’s the sound of church bells and your father growling about the racket_ _  
__And you wandering thoughts that say —_

I am going to die here

_In this town that is trying to eat you alive in how it has so much to say_   
_about everything that’s_   
_empty in it.”_

* * *

It’s december. It’s holiday's break. It’ll be when he crosses the doors.

The school bell has rung five minutes ago and the hallways are already empty, all the kids eager to the fake feeling of freedom, that really was just the knowledge of not having to go back to school for another two weeks, the teachers having loading them with homework and assignments that would be pulled out of the backpacks the very next day, just to get things out the way, their parents would say, so they can enjoy the other days of break. When in reality the paper would be given five minutes of attention before they were abandoned in favor of grabbing their sleds and winter gear when their friends showed up, laughing at their doorstep. Or when one of their mom’s would announce that there’s hot chocolate! — and there’s marshmallows, and whipped cream too! Here, I’m even going to drizzle it with caramel sauce for you — only to be picked up again the night before going back to school. When they’d look at the piles of white paper with back letters and question the same thing they did at the end of every summer and at the end of every break. _Why I didn’t do this earlier?_

But that would happen tomorrow or two weeks from now. That’s not the story. That’s the story:

There’s a boy running through the school’s corridors, his big backpack bouncing while he ran. _The school bell had rung five minutes ago_ , and his friend was waiting outside for him. But he had to talk to Mr. Fitzpatrick because _you have to do your assignments Richie you’re such a bright kid, don’t be lazy!_

He had his arms all marked with memos that he had to do his Biology assignment, he had to do his math homework, he had to read that book, he had to —, he had to —, put his coat on! Eddie would throw a fit if he saw his arms, a firm believer that pen ink gave cancer and who would he be to argue, he means, Eddie’s the one who read all that stuff about diseases and his father died of cancer so he must know what he's talking about, but Richie doesn’t care he just wants to remember and Eddie to not make him go back inside to scrub his arms. 

When he finished putting his coat on and run the rest of the way, his best friend was already there, looking cute, — he means pissed, with a red nose and puffed cheeks. 

He had a white cap on that shined almost as bright as the snow below his feet, with his puffy baby blue coat that reached almost to his knees and bright red snow boots on. 

“You’re late! I have been freezing—”

“Now, now don’t be a sour puss it’s only been five minutes,” he said in his cheriff voice, jogging the rest of the way over because even if it’s only been five minutes he didn’t want his friend to be cold for longer than necessary. 

“Six minutes and twenty eight seconds!” Eddie said aggravated, pointing at his wrist where his digital watch that went _beep beep_ every two hours was. 

“Where are your gloves?” He frowned.

“I lost them! So I have been freezing my fingers out here and I can feel my body deciding which limbs to sacrifice first! My fingers are the first option I’m guessing!” Eddie screeches and wow Richie had a flashback about the mythology class they were having and if his friend wasn’t the decedent of a banshee or something. He wouldn’t doubt especially with the _Eddie-bears!_ and _be careful he’s delicate!_ he’d heard Mrs. K yelling.

He reached inside the pocket of his orange coat and offered his knitted gloves without hesitation.

“You can have mine,” He urged when the smaller only frowned at the clothing pieces and back to Richie’s face. 

“But what about you?”

“It’s fine you have been out here for longer. Just take it!” He shoved the gloves at Eddie’s chest with pink cheeks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose while the other yelped and scrambled to try and prevent the gloves from falling in the snow. “Let’s go, your mom is warming up her vagina for me, anyway.”

“Hey!”

But he was already walking, trespassing the school gates while shoving his hand in his pockets and squaring his shoulders. _Damn it was cold._

“Wait, asshole!” He turned in time to see Eddie jogging up to him holding out one of the gloves.

“I told you, you can have them, I’ll be fine, jeez!” He huffed rolling his eyes, while walking backwards. But Kaspbrak isn’t rellenting, waving the clothe article in front of his face. When Richie didn’t make a move to catch them he decided to take matters into his own hands, wrapping his tiny frozen fingers around Richie’s wrist and bringing it closer to himself. 

Richie’s movements all stopped, his back stiffened and his heart rate peaked but before he could say anything or protest Eddie was yelping and dropping his hand.

“Your dumbass! I told you that pen ink gives cancer! It has lead in it!”

Richie scoffed, turning his face so the smaller wouldn’t see the flush in his cheeks and slight smile gracing his lips, puffing out clouds of condensation in the process. 

“Yeah but I have to remember things Eds!”

“Just get a agenda or journal, like I said!” 

“I’ll forget to write in the agenda, you know it.” He deadpanned, because they have been here before countless times, his fierce friend being all organized with different colored pencils, a notebook for each class, a folder for his assignments, a journal for his plans, all sprinkled with post-it’s, a beep beep for his medication — and for Richie. 

He turned to start to walk again but was stopped once more by a petite hand wrapping around his wrist.

With shiny translucent red lips — Eddie always used cherry chapstick on winter — in a tight line and chestnut eyebrows frowned he put on the glove on his best friend. 

The taller watched with a fluttering heart and pursed lips, for once forgetting to fill the space between them with words and instead replacing it with his cigarette breath, that Eddie hated so much and complained _oh_ so often. 

But he wasn’t right now. 

Caramel eyes looked up at Richie from behind a curtain of brown eyelashes, dropping the hand between them with another outstretched hand taking it’s place. 

“What?” He mumbled, a little dazed.

“Let’s hold hands.” Eddie explained, reaching for the other’s hand and starting to walk at an alarming quick pace for his tiny legs and huge coat. “I wear one glove, you wear the other and we hold hands to share heat. It’s physics, Richie.” 

“Oh,” He breathed out, looking at his friend profile, with the bright red cheeks and wrinkled nose, and the only word that came to his mind was: gorgeous. 

Because Eddie Kaspbrak was a lot of things, he was asthmatic, hypochondriac, energetic, he was a tiny ball of anger and indignation — and he was gorgeous. 

Pretty. That kind of perfect pretty. Because Eddie had nothing especial.

He had average brown hair, average brown eyes, average olive skin. But everything was perfect. His hair was always soft and smelled nice, his eyes were big and shiny and Richie saw somewhere that people with bigger eyes were more attractive, and his skin was so smooth and delicately well scented, with little freckles sprinkled all over it even in winter, even when the golden shine of summer wasn’t there anymore instead giving space to the ghostly white and foggy glow of winter. 

His nose was cute and small, and his lips had a rosebud shape. 

He was perfect. 

Even with his small frame, even with his chubby cheeks who still held some baby fat, even with his too wide gaze.

And while the sun shined off of every surface possible — including Eddie’s eyes, the tiny snowflakes clinging to his beanie and their boots sinking in the snow on the sidewalk, that looked like a glowing path for him and Eddie alone, the air around them empty, the street empty, the world empty. It was just them, holding hands going back home, when Richie realized for the first time.

_I love him._

Not in the same way he loved Bill or Bev, both with red hair and blue eyes, not the way he loved Ben with his gentle stare and infinite patience, or Stan with his beautiful smile and angled face, nor the way he did love Mike with his dark skin and reliable arms. 

No, he loved him the only way he could. With all his heart. 

And later when they were at Richie’s house, getting read for sleep, after playing games on his Atari for the rest of the evening, Eddie slipped a note to him. 

After opening the paper he realized it was from a page of Eddie’s bullet journal. 

It said:

  * Biology assignment about genetics;
  * Algebra homework;
  * Read _To Kill a Mockingbird_ , for English;
  * History questions pages 89 to 95;
  * BUY A FUCKING JOURNAL!!!



He thought he loved Eddie even more, even if that wasn’t allowed, he would settle for saying that he liked him and that he was _cute cute cute,_ because that he could, but he would still love him.


End file.
